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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828983">El Camino Retorcido</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightRedSunset88/pseuds/BrightRedSunset88'>BrightRedSunset88</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Coco (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaos, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge, hostility, possible PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightRedSunset88/pseuds/BrightRedSunset88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miguel has passed, Ernesto is back for revenge, and new challenges are faced by Miguel and his familia.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Héctor Rivera &amp; Miguel Rivera, Miguel Rivera &amp; The Rivera Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Esperando</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>EL CAMINO RETORCIDO - "THE TWISTED PATH"</p><p>I know there are multiple "Miguel dies" and "Ernesto attempts to get revenge" stories, but I thought I might add another one to AO3 because why not?  Also, unlike other authors, I'm planning on finishing this one.  Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miguel blinked away his non-existent tears as he recalled what happened not 10 minutes ago.</p><p>A car had hit him, death just seconds after impact.  Blood had run over his body and the road, painting both a sharp crimson.  Pain shot through Miguel's body at rapid speed, his vision went blurry, and before he knew it, there was darkness and silence.</p><p>Now here Miguel sat in the Department of Family Reunions, legs swinging as he waited impatiently for his familia to pick him up.  It had been about a year and a half since his previous trip to La Tierra de los Muertos, and now here the young Rivera sat, stuck at a mere thirteen years old for the rest of his death.</p><p>One would think Miguel would be shaking and sobbing in hysterics as he waited, but he did not.  He just waited, silent and fidgeting, shock still having a tight grip on him.  He refused to break down now, not in front of strangers.  He would hold strong, like his Mamá Imelda, until he was in the safety and comfort of his familia.  Only then would he let his facade crumble and break down.</p><p>His familia had been called, but no one had picked up.  Perhaps they were busy with the shop... really busy.</p><p>"I still can't believe you have arrived here so soon," A familiar voice snapped Miguel back to the present.  It was the one agent worker who had helped Miguel and his familia back in Miguel's previous journey.  He walked into the waiting room from his office to check up on the young Rivera.  "You are still well known here, sabes, still known as the living boy.  People continue to talk about you and wonder how you're doing, back in La Tierra de los Vivos.  But of course, that's not the case."</p><p>Miguel could only look down, numb.  He didn't know how to react to that.</p><p>"And frankly," The agent continued.  "I'm surprised no one has recognized you yet."</p><p>Miguel agreed in silence.  He was wearing jeans and his favorite red hoodie, though both were now bloody, so he was bound to be recognized by the get up.  The only difference was he was wearing a black t shirt underneath instead of his white tank top from last time.</p><p>"If I may ask," The agent began again, slightly hesitantly.  "Where is that strange alebrije of yours?"</p><p>"No sé," Miguel replied simply and dully, head hanging.  "Probably con mis padres ahora."</p><p>"Ah," The agent nodded in understanding.  "I'll go try and call your family again.  Would you like to come in case they answer?"</p><p>Miguel thought a moment, but then shook his head.  He needed to be alone now and let the shock wear off.</p><p>"I'm really sorry this happened," The agent said after a moment before heading back to his office to contact the Riveras.</p><p>About five minutes later, the agent returned to Miguel with no answer from the Riveras.  Since Miguel was somewhat familiar with the area, he asked for a copy of their address as a last resort.  After taking it and thanking the agent, he headed off toward one of the subways-</p><p>
  <em>CRASH!</em>
</p><p>The sound of a car mercilessly running into and over his body burst in Miguel's mind, and he nearly fell forward, clutching his head.  No, he couldn't take the subway, nor the sky trams.  What if it happened again?  No, he couldn't do it.</p><p>Left in fear to go by foot, Miguel made his way out into the busy streets, not knowing where to go.  He tried to think of where his familia might be, but this was the first time he was in town without chasing after de la Cruz with Héctor-</p><p>Miguel abruptly stopped, wincing again.  Anger and fear flooded through him again as he remembered Ernesto throwing him off the tower backstage, hearing his family's worried gasps and screams as his body raced to the pavement.</p><p>Eyes shut tight, Miguel forced himself to calm down.  No, he couldn't break down.  Not yet.  </p><p>Many skeletons gave him worried and sad looks, but none of them helped, not that Miguel exactly minded.  He needed his family now....</p><p>He needed his Papá Héctor.</p><p>With paper in hand, Miguel continued on, not letting his emotions get in the way just yet.  He could do this.  He could find his familia.  He had to...</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:</p><p>No sé - I don't know<br/>Con mis padres ahora - with my parents now</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Poor Miguelito... I can't wait to continue with this fic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Una Cara Nueva</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Miguel runs into a new face.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ten minutes into his journey, and hope and luck were not on Miguel's side.  He's tried to find somewhere, <em>anywhere</em> that would look familiar, but nothing grabbed at his memory.</p><p>While he wanted to find his familia, Miguel also wanted to take a few minutes to just look around.  He didn't exactly have all the time in the world last time he visited, but he did now... unfortunately.</p><p>Miguel found a bustling alleyway and sat on a sturdy and empty wooden crate, watching "life" happen en esta tierra as it did.  It was strange how everyone looked eerily familiar to how they did in life; he remembered how last time when he first encountered his familia he recognized them right away, and not by their clothes, but by their faces.  Victoria's and Imelda's stern and strong features were unforgettable, and Rosita's kind and round features stood out beautifully.  Oscar y Felipe of course carried their mischief with them to the afterlife, with their cunning smirks and busting laughter from telling jokes and pulling pranks on the family.  It was so bittersweet to finally be in the same realm with them now.  Miguel was taught in school that all skulls and facial features looked nearly the same when people died, but now he could tell that was all a lie, at least in this world.  He didn't know if it applied for their physical corpses or not.</p><p>Miguel watched as children played in the alley, sad that others as young as him and younger passed on too early in their life.  They would never grow up or experience being adults; they were stuck this way forever.</p><p>Venders in the alley sold various frutas y verduras with a smile, general passerbys chatted away about their afterlives, and the atmosphere was casual and chill, almost relaxing.  Almost.</p><p>Since arriving, Miguel didn't exactly take the time to look over his skeletal form.  He looked down at his hands, remembering almost being pulled into this same fate just a year and some months ago, the outline of his skin fading true with the ticking clock and the coming sunrise.  The young Rivera tapped his wrist, finding that he couldn't feel the same way as if he would have skin.  There was no sensation of his boney digits on his arm, just a feeling of pressure, both physical and memorized.</p><p>Then it dawned on him that he hasn't even looked at himself yet.  What would his markings look like?  How much different would he look like without his big ears?</p><p>Glancing around, Miguel spotted a vender selling various ropa y joyería and hopped off the crate, making his way over.</p><p>"Por favor, señora," Miguel began shyly, voice small.  "May I use your mirror?"</p><p>The vender, a tall woman who appeared to have a kind and soft but grounding face, looked at him with a soft smile.  "Por supuesto, niño," She replied, moving aside.  Miguel nodded in thanks before walking up, eyes landing on his reflection.</p><p>Small bright green swirls flowered upward from between his eyes, and small blue dots outlined his eyes.  Underneath, three markings on each side rested under his eyes, each one being orange, blue or red.  This tugged at Miguel's heart since these were the exact markings that his Papá Héctor was adorned with, just different colors.  Miguel's emotions began to swell inside of his phantom gut, proud to finally see a physical resemblance to his favorite passed relative.  These markings proudly confirmed their bond and relation to each other, and for the first time since his arrival happiness began to bloom inside the young Rivera, beginning to tear down the walls of numbness that he forced himself to put up not even an hour ago.</p><p>Felicidad turned into determinación, and Miguel turned to leave before a voice stopped him.</p><p>"I see you must be a new arrival," The vender spoke up kindly, her stance casual.  Miguel took a better look at her; bright pink swirls, bright yellow dress that nearly brushed the ground, and the woman appeared to be in her fourties.  Long crystal earrings dangled from where her ears should have been, and a lavender marble necklace hung loosely around her collarbone.</p><p>"Y-yeah," Miguel confirmed.  "I haven't found my family yet.  They didn't pick me up at the Department."</p><p>"Ay, that's terrible," The vender shook her head.  "I'm sorry, niño.  Hopefully you will find them soon... but not without a new change of clothes."</p><p>It hit Miguel again; his clothes were still dirtied from his blood.  Another flash of the car hitting him sparked in his mind, and he winced, clutching his head while trying to keep his composure.</p><p>"Are you alright?" The vender asked, taking notice of Miguel's state.</p><p>"I guess... I just remembered how I..." He couldn't say the word.</p><p>"Oh no, lo siento, niñito," The vender apologized.  "I should not have brought that up.  How about we get you some new clothes, sí?"</p><p>"Okay," Miguel said, perking up just slightly.  While he adored his red hoodie, it needed to be washed as soon as possible.</p><p>"Bueno," The vender smiled affirmatively.  "Pick out something you like."</p><p>"But I don't have any dinero with me..." Miguel remembered, embarrassed.</p><p>The vender smiled with a small shake of her head, bending down and placing a hand on his shoulder.  "Nonsense, chico.  I would never charge a new arrival, especially not children."</p><p>Miguel smiled again at this, but nervously.  He wanted to give her at least <em>something </em>to show how grateful he was, even if it wasn't cash.</p><p>"What's your name, chiquito?"</p><p>"Miguel."</p><p>"Bien, Miguel, pick out anything you like.  I think there are some clothes your size...over here!" The vender confirmed with a snap of her fingers, making her way to a rack with smaller shirts.  "By the way, I'm Marisol."</p><p>"Mucho gusto," Miguel smiled.  "Hey, I think that shirt would fit me."</p><p>He pointed to a black t shirt with a singular thick green stripe across the front.  Marisol gave it to him, and after replacing his bloodied hoodie with it, Miguel felt less dirty.</p><p>"Excelente!" Marisol exclaimed.  "It fits you great."</p><p>Miguel couldn't help but notice how Marisol's personality seemed to be a mixture of Héctor's and Frida Kahlo's, both caring and gentle with kindness and and gripped with passion.</p><p>"Gracias," Miguel thanked her.  "You kind of remind me of someone."</p><p>"Oh really?  Who?" Marisol asked, pausing from adjusting some clothes on the rack.</p><p>"Frida Kahlo."</p><p>"Ah, Frida!" Marisol exclaimed again, her lashes dancing above her bright eyes.  Miguel could almost swear that he saw her markings brighten too at the mention of the famous artist.  "Yes, she is a good friend of mine, actually."</p><p>"Really?" Miguel perked up even more.  What a surprise!</p><p>"Sí!  We never knew each other in life, but we met here about 15 years ago at one of her art shows.  Ah, what a fiery spirit she has!  Her confidence and passion helped me get out of my comfort zone, as I was shy once and never got to truly live my dream.  I am now a clothes designer, and I have never looked back since."</p><p>"So, you made this?" Miguel asked, gesturing to the current camiseta he was wearing.</p><p>"Yes!  I made all of these!"</p><p>"Wow, you do a really great job!" Miguel complimented, feeling much more comfortable around Marisol now.</p><p>"Gracias, chico!  And I see without a doubt you also have something you are very passionate about, I can feel it."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm an aspiring musician," Miguel replied.  "I would play, but I don't have my guitarra with me now."</p><p>"That's fine, Miguel," Marisol replied.  "I can tell you have a firm hold on your passion for music."</p><p>"I do," Miguel confirmed.  "It's my life."</p><p>"That's amazing, chiquito," Marisol grinned proudly.  "But I didn't get to ask, how come did I remind you of Frida?"</p><p>"Oh, um..." Miguel didn't exactly know how to explain his previous trip here.  "I actually was here before when I was alive..."</p><p>Marisol's eyes widened.  "It's <em>you!</em>" She gasped.  "You're the living boy that we've all heard about!"</p><p>"I guess I'm pretty well known here, huh."</p><p>"Absolutamente!  A living soul has never gotten to cross here before, ever!"</p><p>"Yeah.. I actually met Frida when I was here too.  She helped mi familia to get to de la Cruz and expose who he really is."  Miguel hated saying Ernesto's name, but he had to so he could explain his story.</p><p>"Yes, that must have been quite an adventure for you," Marisol thought aloud.  "Ay, chico!  What a surprise to meet you!"  Suddenly an idea flashed across her face.  "Ay, tengo un idea!  I'll help get you to Frida so she can help you find your family, sí?"</p><p>Miguel simply <em>beamed.  </em>Finally, he would be with a familiar face!</p><p>"Yes!  Thank you so much!"</p><p>"Excelente!  I'll close my booth for now, and we can get going," Marisol affirmed, starting to do so.</p><p>Miguel couldn't believe his luck.  Finally, he was one step closer to finding his family!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:</p><p>frutas y verduras - fruits and vegetables<br/>ropa y joyería - clothes and jewelry<br/>por supuesto - of course<br/>felicidad - happiness<br/>lo siento - I'm sorry (lit. "I regret it")<br/>dinero - money<br/>mucho gusto - nice to meet you (lit. "much pleasure")<br/>tengo un idea - I have an idea</p><p>This of course isn't all the Spanish in the chapter, but the other words you should be familiar with or be able to figure out easily.</p><p>Also, I wrote "passerbys" because I cannot STAND the word being "passersby", no matter how correct it is.  Fight me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Zapatos Desgastados</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Meanwhile with the dead Riveras...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My apologies for not having updated sooner.  Classes are stressful right now and writers' block is quite heavy, so updates will be slow for the most part.  Please bear with me on this.  I haven't left the Coco fandom and I never will, don't worry.  Anyways, enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Julio!" A piercing voice rang out through the Rivera zapatería.  "Are those botas ready for pick up tomorrow?"</p><p>"Sí, Mamá," Another voice replied.  "Another order finally ready."</p><p>"Bueno," Imelda smiled in triumph, wiping her hands in victory before slapping them onto her hipbones.  "Now that everything is ready for tomorrow, we- <em>hey!</em>"</p><p>In a blur Oscar and Felipe fled through the workshop, nearly knocking over their older sister and some supplies almost teetering on one of the work table's edges.  They sprinted outside, absolutely guffawing with laughter as they ran.  Imelda almost swore after them, but her head turned again to find what her brothers were running from; a disheveled Héctor covered in flower petals and blue spray paint.</p><p>Héctor slowed to a stop from his chase after the twins, breathing hard as spray paint and petals dripped off his bones and vest all over the floor.</p><p>"Your... your hermanos..." He managed to get out between heaves.  "They're quite fast..."</p><p>"You... you idiota!" Imelda cried out, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment and a balled fist pressed hard to her forehead.  "I told you to never trust those two unless absolutely necessary!"</p><p>"They seemed sincere this time, mi amor," Héctor explained, picking petals out of his stained hair one by one.  "And I thought that <em>I </em>was the mischievous one."  He tried to crack a smile at that to his wife, but she just rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Great, look at this mess," Imelda spat, before her head snapped up again, looking behind her wacky husband.  "Victoria!"</p><p>"On it," Victoria, who had just entered the workshop, affirmed, heading quickly after the twins.  Even after decades of being dead they still didn't learn that Imelda's and Victoria's fierce looks and chanclas could still kill.</p><p>Héctor sighed, continuing to brush petals off himself.  "Lo siento, cariña.  I'll...I'll go clean up..." He said lowly, his head down as he dragged himself back through the workshop towards their casa.</p><p>"Ay," Imelda face palmed, shaking her head.  "What am I going to do with you, Héctor?" Luckily he was out of hearing range, and Imelda went to go get supplies to clean up the blue splattered drops and flower petals all over the floor.  It was clear that some new rules were needed, especially now that Héctor was back in the family.  Imelda did adore him, but he could just be too much sometimes.  Charming as he was, his brain was too full of nonsense to comprehend certain aspects of how life should be, one of them being to not trust the twins.  Imelda didn't like chaos in the house, not one bit.  It was already too much with her brothers, but to see her esposo roped into it made her steam even more.  He was the family patriarch now, so he was going to have to act like one.  </p><p>Imelda sighed to herself as she mopped up the paint stains.  She missed how carefree she and Héctor were when they were teenagers.  Just the two of them and music, that was all they needed then.  While Imelda's parents were highly against their daughter seeing a lanky string bean of an orphan muchacho, Imelda was somehow swept by his charm and good nature.  She was just sixteen when the two of them met, blooming into a young woman.  So many of the boys fell at her feet, but none of them were good enough for her.  Only one was, and it was the shock of the town for her to pick a quirky, noodley musician.  No one was able to understand, but they didn't need to, for it was just her and Héctor against the world.  Since then, over a century has passed, and their fire has noticeably died down.  Then again, not much else was expected when ones husband has run off with his best friend then mysteriously never returned, only to have actually been murdered and not a cheating, thirsty fame seeker as believed. </p><p>Once finished with getting some of the stains out, Imelda threw down the mop and rubbed her head, trying to calm down.  Ay, she didn't know what to think of him anymore...</p><p>Just moments later, bone clattering was heard and suddenly Victoria had Oscar and Felipe grasped hard by their collars before Imelda.</p><p>"You two idiots need to stop playing pranks on my husband," Imelda informed them, voice clipped.  "It's bad enough you do it to the rest of us, but he is <em>my husband.</em>  He is to learn how to run this family right, and the three of you running around like pollos sin cabezas is not helping!"</p><p>"Lo sentimos, hermana," Oscar began.</p><p>"Yeah, we were just-"</p><p>"-trying to have some fun."</p><p>"If you want this town to drown in paint, be my guest," Imelda rolled her eyes.  "But not here."</p><p>Her eyes glanced around, landing on some stain spots she missed.</p><p>"Hm," She hrumphed, pointing to the mop.  "Your turn to clean up.  It's your mess after all."  And with that, Imelda stormed off to the casa.</p><p>As the twins went to clean more stain spots out of the floor and some work tables, Imelda plopped down onto the couch in the sitting room.</p><p>"I see there was some trouble with your brothers again," A high pitched and usually bubbly voice announced itself from the kitchen.</p><p>"They just never know when to stop," Imelda said, eyes sharp but focused on nothing in particular.  "And Héctor... he doesn't know when to not trust those two."</p><p>"Be reasonable," Rosita soothed Imelda as she walked in with a plate of delicious conchas.  "He is still fairly new to being in the family."</p><p>"That is true," Imelda agreed.  "But if he is to be the patriarch, he needs to act like one.  We were young and carefree way back then... now things have changed since we have a family to take care of.  He needs to hold responsibility."</p><p>"The twins do as well," Rosita explained, sitting next to Imelda.</p><p>"Good thing I sent them to clean then," Imelda finished the conversation.</p><p>Just then some footsteps descended the stairs, and Coco smiled from the stairway down at her mamá.</p><p>"Hola, Mamá," Coco greeted, heading over to Imelda.  "You shouldn't go so hard on papá.  He's tried hard, you know, to please you.  To show his loyalty and love for us."</p><p>Imelda thought on this, and Coco was right.  He would offer flowers to Imelda at the most random moments but in the sweetest way, take her out on quiet walks at sunset, and he even tried to make shoes one time.  He failed miserably, but his efforts were strong and ever present.  Imelda couldn't fault him for that.</p><p>"I know, mija," Imelda replied loosely, giving her beloved daughter a quick kiss on her head.  "He just needs to learn our ways."</p><p>Before Coco could argue, a strained yelp was heard from upstairs.  It was no mistake to whose voice it was.  Immediately Imelda stood and bolted up the stairs, half expecting to see her husband having spasms again like he did that one fateful Día de Muertos.  Instead he stood in the bathroom doorway, dressed but hair still damp, hunched over with a hand on his stomach, his eyes screwed tight in pain.</p><p>"Héctor, what's wrong?" She questioned hurriedly, reaching out and cupping his lowered face as her eyes darted in search of his.</p><p>"Something...ugh," Héctor winced again, leaning more against the doorframe.  "Something's wrong... with..." He hunched over again, pain coming over him again.</p><p>"With what?" Imelda coaxed worriedly.</p><p>Héctor took some breaths before lifting his head to meet Imelda's eyes with big, scared brown ones.  The next thing he said felt like burning waste in his mouth as he told her.</p><p>"With Miguel."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Spanish vocabulary</p><p>zapatería - show store<br/>hermanos - brothers / siblings (both male and female)<br/>mi amor - my love<br/>lo siento - I'm sorry<br/>cariña - darling, dear, sweetheart, basically a term of affection<br/>casa - home/house<br/>esposo - husband<br/>muchacho - a word meaning a young boy around teenage years<br/>pollos sin cabeza - headless chickens<br/>lo sentimos - we're sorry<br/>hermana - sister<br/>mija - "my daughter" (the words "mi hija" together)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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